


Facing Fears

by Listenerofshadows



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Anxiety (because this is Virgil we're talking about), Bullying Mention, Gen, High School AU, Platonic Prinixety, self-deprecation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-06 19:33:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16839001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Listenerofshadows/pseuds/Listenerofshadows
Summary: “You’re overthinking this, just go with it. If they try anything, well, just take off their heads.”Roman tries pushing a certain emo nightmare to do the school talent show. Virgil isn't so sure of the idea.





	Facing Fears

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in July on Tumblr and I'm just now posting it onto here. Enjoy!

“You’re overthinking this, just go with it. If they try anything, well, just take off their heads.”

“Take off their heads?” Virgil rose an eyebrow, “I’m pretty sure that’s an even worse idea.”

“Well, what do you expect to say?” Roman huffed, crossing his arms together, “Imagine them in their underwear?”

“No, that’s worse.” Virgil shuddered, dropping his face onto the table with a thud.

“Look, pretend you’re just presenting it to me and you’ll do fine.”

“No I won’t,” Virgil murmured, face still squished against the table, “I can’t pretend when I know there’s gonna be a ton of people staring at me—judging me. I’m not like you Roman, I can’t go out there—I JUST CAN’T!”

He looked up at Roman, panicked. He expected Roman to laugh off Virgil’s concerns, teasing him for his excessive worriedness. Instead, his face was unusually solemn.

“What do you mean, you’re not like me?” Roman asked, soft and inquisitive.

“You love being on stage, being the center of the spotlight—you don’t care what people think about you,” Virgil gritted his teeth, “Y’know that’s not really me. I’m just the outcast with crippling social anxiety. I don’t even know how I let you talk me into this in the first place.”

Roman let out a choked, strained laugh. Virgil glared at him.  
“What’s so funny?” He demanded, suddenly growing wary.

In the hierarchical society of high school, Virgil and Roman shouldn’t have interacted beyond what was necessary for school. Roman ran with the popular crowd. It wasn’t hard to see why. He had charms, good lucks and he was the star of the theatre program.

Virgil, meanwhile, belonged to the lowest of the lowest rung. He sat at the back of the class, ate lunch alone. He snarled and snapped at people, pushing them away. It was easier that way. He learned long ago that putting on a dark persona was the best way to protect himself. Even the bullies stayed away from Virgil, who seemed impervious to their taunts and insults.

He was surviving just fine until that damned group project came along. The teacher assigned the groups, much to everyone but Virgil’s horror. Seeing as he had no friends, he figured it wasn’t any worse than usual.

Of course, he had to be assigned to Roman, of all people. The two got off to a rough start. Roman resented Virgil, angry he was torn apart from his friends. Virgil hated Roman on the principle he was one of those popular kids who thought himself above the others. He didn’t get the nickname “The Prince” for nothing after all!

But somehow, they miraculously managed not to kill each other before the group project was over. Not only that, but they became friends. Somewhat. Which was how he allowed himself to be talked into performing at the talent show by Roman.

“Nothing, truly,” Roman said once he recovered from his laugh, “It’s just—I’m not brave as you think I am. I’m a coward.”

“You are not a coward.” Virgil protested. Where was this coming from?

“But I am!” Roman insisted, “I cared so much about my image that I didn’t stop to think about how I was hurting people. I acted like a jerk to you and so many others just to fit in with the crowd. It was awful and atrocious and not prince-like at all!”

“You’re not a coward, Roman,” Virgil said softly, “You recognized it was wrong and you put a stop to it. A coward would’ve just kept going.”

“You think so?” Roman sniffled.

“Of course. Why else would I say it?” Virgil rolled his eyes but held out his arms, “do you need a hug, Princey?”

He didn’t think Roman would actually accept his offer. But the other teenager came barreling into him, squeezing him tightly. Virgil stiffened in surprise, before hugging him back as well.

“Besides, coward or not, you’re still fearless of the stage.” Virgil whispered to him as he finally withdrew from the hug.

“Believe me Virgil, even I get afraid of that stage. I understand how intimidating it is to have hundreds of eyes staring at you. But I know you can do it. You’re one of the bravest people I know.”

“Me? Brave?” Now it was Virgil’s turn to laugh.

“I’m being serious!” Roman exclaimed, “You aren’t afraid to speak your mind about things you’re passionate about—regardless of the consequences. You spoke out against me, despite the ridicule you could’ve endure from it. You fricking fought off a raccoon with a broomstick while I was busy screaming. You dyed your hair purple! You’d certainly earn a spot at the round table of King Arthur.”

“And yet, the thought of performing in front of people makes me wanna die.” Virgil rolled his eyes.

Roman sighed.

“Look, Virgil, you don’t have to do it, if you don’t want to. I realize—maybe perhaps I pushed you too hard and I apologize for making you uncomfortable.”

Virgil bit his lips. It was true that Roman had pushed him into signing up for the talent show contest. He’d never signed up without him. But he couldn’t lie that he hadn’t enjoyed practicing with Roman in the days leading up to the show. It was just the thought of being alone up there that terrified him.

“No, it’s fine,” Virgil murmured, “I think—I think I can do it, as long as you’re up there with me.”

Roman’s eyes widened, and Virgil hastily added, “Only if you want to! I mean I understand if you don’t—”

“Of course, I want to!” Roman said, his eyes gleaming gleefully, “we’ll just have to make some adjustments to the act!”

That night, Roman squeezed his shoulder before the two of them walked out. Roman sat at the piano while Virgil adjusted his grip on his guitar. They gave each other a nod before they started. Together with Roman, Virgil played his heart out. In that moment, nothing existed but the music. His fingers flew across the strings of his guitar, madly dashing to keep in time with Roman’s chords. With Roman’s encouraging gaze, Virgil opened his lips and sang.

When the crowd roared with approval at the end, Virgil flinched. He’d nearly forgotten they existed. He recovered quickly, giving a shaky bow before exiting.

“See? I knew you could do it! And you didn’t have to cut anyone’s heads off.” Roman said, elbowing him playfully.

“Oh shut up.” Virgil said, elbowing him back.

They didn’t win the talent show. Some girl with a niche for uni-cycling while playing an ukulele accomplished that. But they still celebrated with ice cream from Dairy Queen regardless.

“To facing fears!” Roman proclaimed, raising his ice cream cone high as if toasting.

“To facing fears,” Virgil smirked, clinking his ice cream cone against Roman’s.


End file.
